and observe
some of its many points of interest. Indeed, it is no small thing to live
in such a "city of memories" as every village is, when at every turn and
corner we meet with something that reminds us of the past, and recalls
the pleasing associations of old village life. To those who have lived
amid the din and turmoil of a large town, where everybody is in a hurry,
and there is nothing but noise, confusion, and bustle, the delicious
calm and quietude of an old English village, undisturbed by the world's
rude noise, is most grateful. But to live in memory of what has gone
before, of the lives and customs of our forefathers, of the strange
events that have happened on the very ground upon which we are standing,
all this will make us love our village homes and delight in them
exceedingly. In most of our large towns the old features are fast
disappearing; historical houses have been pulled down to make room
for buildings more adapted to present needs, and everything is being
modernised; but in the country everything remains the same, and it is
not so difficult to let one's thoughts wander into the past, and picture
to one's self the old features of village life in bygone times.

Most of our villages have the usual common features, and it is not
difficult to describe a typical example, though the details vary very
much, and the histories of no two villages are identical. We see arising
above the trees the church, the centre of the old village life, both
religious, secular, and social. It stands upon a site which has been
consecrated to the service of God for many centuries. There is possibly
in or near the churchyard a tumulus, or burial mound, which shows that
the spot was set apart for some religious observances even before
Christianity reached our shores. Here the early Saxon missionary planted
his cross and preached in the open air to the gathered villagers. Here
a Saxon thane built a rude timber church which was supplanted by an
early Norman structure of stone with round arches and curiously carved
ornamentation. This building has been added to at various times, and now
shows, writ in stone, its strange and varied history. The old time-worn
registers, kept in the parish chest in the vestry, breathe the
atmosphere of bygone times, and tell the stories and romances of the
"rude forefathers of the hamlet." The tombs and monuments of knights and
ancient heroes tell many a tale of valour and old-world prowess, of
fami